"Hermione, he's still not talking to us. It's been a week," Ron exclaimed as he flopped himself onto his bed.

"Well, we deserve it, Ronald," Hermione scolded. "We were out of line to say what we said. Harry's got every right to be angry with us."

"We! 'Mione, I didn't even say anything, Harry shouldn't even be mad at me! This is your fault, 'Mione!" Ron sat up on the bed, looking furious.

Hermione was shocked. She couldn't believe him, blaming this entire thing on her. "Don't you dare put this on me," she threatened. "You, are just as responsible for this as I am." Ron let out a frustrated scream, and he punched the headboard.

"Just get out," he whispered. Hermione scowled and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Tears of anger and frustration prickled her eyes as she walked all the way to her room. She tried not to cry, she really did, but once to door to her room closed, she couldn't help the tears from falling. She slid down the door, leaning against it and sobbing. Pansy looked up from the book she was reading on the couch, and her face filled with worry. She shut the book, and ran over to Hermione, wrapping her arms around the crying girl before her.

Hermione looked up at her friend, and turned to sob in her shoulder. Pansy whispered words of comfort, while she led Hermione to the couch. They sat down, and Pansy let Hermione cry, soaking the sleeve of her shirt, though she didn't mind. After five minutes, her crying slowed down, and she rested her head on Pansy's shoulder. Eventually the tears stop, her breathing slowed, and she fell asleep on the Slytherin's shoulder.

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Harry had calmed down since the fight in Ron's room. He wasn't even mad anymore. He didn't talk to his old friends though, he figured they didn't want him around anymore. They didn't even like him anymore, Hermione had said it herself. They wanted the old Harry, and since he couldn't give them that, he assumed this was the next best thing. He had pretended, for so long, to be that old Harry. He had pretended to be okay. But on the inside, he was breaking a little more each day. 

Harry spent his nights doing homework, or lying in bed staring at the ceiling. He spent the days going from class to class, unable to pay attention from the lack of sleep. His grades were dropping, he distanced himself from his friends, he skipped every meal. 

Dean and Seamus grew worried, and tried to get him to eat. Neville tried to get him to sleep. Draco tried to help him with his work. Harry told Dean and Seamus he would grab a bite in the kitchen before the next class. He would lay in bed until he heard Neville's snores, then get up again. 

The end of September rolled around, October coming to greet them. Harry was getting worse, but he kept this from his friends. He had glamours on, to cover the dark circles under his eyes. He wore either his robes, or a hoodie, hoping to cover up his malnourished body. He hid the broken inside him.

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Ron paced the room. He was so mad. At Hermione, at Harry, at life. He was mad at the world, the unfairness brewing deep in it's core. He didn't understand why life hated him so much. He didn't understand why he was so angry all the time. He didn't understand why he couldn't get over his brother's death. The world was against him, it seemed.

Ron stopped pacing and just collapsed on the floor, falling on his knees, tears streaming down his face. He'd screwed up, with everyone and everything. He always seemed to mess everything up. Ron had lost Harry, and now he'd lost Hermione too. 

The ginger stayed there on the ground, feeling too weak to get back up. When Zabini walked in, he stayed, not even bothering with him. Zabini paused when he saw the Weasel, and just stared at him. He looked fragile and small, cowered on the ground beneath the taller boy. Zabini frowned, and left the room, not wanting to bother whatever meltdown the other was having.

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It just after lunch, and they had a free period before their next class. Draco sat down on the stairs, waiting for Harry. The two had decided to switch it up, and were going to the Room of Requirements tonight. 

"Looking for someone, Mr. Malfoy," he heard the Bloody Baron ask behind him.

"What, no, I-" He turned around and jumped when he saw Harry, holding back a fit of laughter.

"Harry! Wha-how did you...what?" Harry started laughing now, holding his sides for support.

"Oh I can't believe that actually worked! I did the same thing to Peeves in first year," he laughed. Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled. 

"Whatever, come on let's go." Harry followed Draco, still chuckling softly. They reached the hallway, and Harry changed drastically. His eyes widened, his breaths short and shallow, his entire body trembling. He crouched down against a wall, staring at wall across them, where a door would appear with just three paces. 

The fire soon enveloped the room. Harry ran and ran, but the room got hotter and hotter. This was it, the end of them all. He didn't want any of them to die, not even the bloody Slytherins in the room. He started coughing, the smoke filling his lungs, consuming him. Piles and piles of junk on fire, spreading like a wildfire. It was hopeless, he was trapped. Hermione threw him a broomstick, and he just stared at it. Then something clicked, and he jumped on the broom. They were almost out, the three of them, before Harry looked back, seeing Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. He looked to Ron and Hermione, before turning around and going back. He couldn't here anything, his ears ringing. He could hardly breathe, they were shallow and rough. He didn't even realize they were out until he hit the ground. He coughed again, and turned to the rest, their expressions unreadable. Crabbe was dead.

"Harry! Harry!" Draco crouched down to Harry's level, shaking his shoulders. He panicked, he had no idea what was happening or what to do. Harry was sweating, his body as hot as a furnace. He checked Harry's pulse, which seemed to be beating way too fast. Trembling slightly, Draco picked up the smaller boy, one are under his knees, the other supporting his head. He bolted to the hospital room as fast as he could, almost crashing into two people arguing before they moved out of the way quickly. Eventually, Draco burst into the room, a slightly better Harry in his arms, but still trembling and now seemed as cold as ice. 

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Ron tried talking to Hermione all through lunch, but she ignored him and continued talking to Neville and Ginny. After lunch, Ron walked with Hermione to their common room, trying to explain himself. Halfway there, Hermione suddenly stopped. "What do you want from me? Just go away!" she yelled, frustrated and tired of Ron's constant apologies.

"Hermione, just listen to me, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have yelled, ok?"

"It doesn't matter, you still said what you said! You can't jus-" She stopped when she saw something, or rather someone, running towards them. The two had barely moved out of the way when the figure ran past them. Hermione looked towards them, about to yell at them too, when she saw it was Draco, carrying something in his arms. It looked like...oh my gosh. 

Ron and Hermione shared a look, and ran after the blond. They ran for a few more minutes, before they burst into the hospital wing, seeing Draco, Harry in his arms, looking around the room frantically. 

"Madame Pomfrey," he yelled, clutching Harry like the raven-haired boy was his lifeline. Ron and Hermione were frozen in place, looking at the shaking boy in Draco's arms. He turned, and saw the two. "What's happening to him?" Tears started blurring his vision, so he turned before they could see. Madame Pomfrey came rushing in, and her eyes immediately fell on Harry. 

She muttered under her breath as she ran to Harry, trying to pick him up, but Draco held on. "Mr. Malfoy you have to let go." He looked up at her, and she sighed at the tears in his eyes. "Very well, put him down here," she said, pointing at one of the beds. Draco walked over, and set the boy down, pulling up a chair for himself as Madame Pomfrey began a chain of spells. Ron and Hermione pulled up chairs themselves, watching Draco with confused expressions. It was going to be a long night.

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